


Jetii

by KesSkirata



Series: Give Without Thought of Reward [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fist Fights, Flirting, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Lightsaber, Mild Blood, Reader-Insert, Young Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KesSkirata/pseuds/KesSkirata
Summary: Anakin and Dasha fight their way through a Death Watch kidnap squad, and she discovers his true identity.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Mandalorian Female Character, Anakin Skywalker/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Give Without Thought of Reward [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108715
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Jetii

Your heart was beating fast as you followed Anakin out of the stadium. The adrenaline of being hunted by Death Watch was nothing compared to the lingering feeling of his kiss. He grabbed your hand as you walked under the arched exit from the stadium and pulled you into a narrow service corridor.

“They’ll be watching the exits to the tram,” he said, “I know another way out.”

“My swoop bike is in a parking garage two buildings over, the Bra’ct Building,” you whisper back. “Let’s head that way.” Anakin nodded and changed direction at the next intersection. Together you climbed down rusty ladders and crept through more narrow passageways. Anakin’s directional abilities were impressive, as was his knowledge of the labyrinthine layout of service corridors. He saw your appraising look as he moved inerrantly through the passage and grinned at you.

“I come here a lot too,” he said, stopping in front of a rusty metal door. “This should be the Bra’ct building.” He opens the door cautiously. “It’s clear. Let’s use the stairs instead of the turbolift.” 

“I’m parked on level 5,” you say and move quickly towards the staircase. Anakin follows, his breath loud in your ears as you jog up the stairs. 

“So Anakin, you ever handle anything as powerful as a swoop on steroids,” you tease as you climb together. Anakin’s answering laugh is breathy with exertion. 

“Oh I think I can manage myself, I’ve had my hands on some pretty powerful vehicles.” His voice is bright with mirth and you can hear the challenge in his words, “I’ll tune those engines till they purr.” 

You giggle before you can stop yourself, tossing your hair as you flash a look over your shoulder. Anakin’s eyes are smoldering again, and you quickly turn your head forward before he can see you blush. The tension between you is bright with anticipation.

There’s no sound other than your panting as the two of you crest the final flight of steps to level 5. You change your pace from speed to stealth, and feel Anakin do the same behind you. Everything is too quiet. The door to level 5 is propped open, and your frown deepens as you stare at it. Your fist clenches as you bring your arm up in a hold signal and Anakin instantly stops behind you, completely silent. Some part of your brain files that information away for later, knowing that his response means he has been trained to recognize and instantly obey military style hand signals, but at the moment you have more pressing concerns. You hold your breath and listen. There’s still no noise at all. You wish desperately that you were wearing your helmet, it would be nice to have infrared imaging right now. 

Anakin brushes past you, his face alert. He’s listening too. You lower your fist, glancing at him as he lifts a finger to his mouth. Anakin steps outside of the stairway, his head on a swivel. There’s a long moment where he disappears from your view entirely and your stomach drops, but then he’s in front of you again.

“I don’t sense anything,” he said, frowning, “but something still doesn’t feel right. C’mon, let’s get out of here fast.” You nod, and throw him a look,  _ Sense anything? what the shab does that mean?  _ You step out of the door and Anakin matches your pace as you walk together towards your bike. 

“Do you have a blaster?” you ask softly as you cross the pillared garage.

“What? Uh, no,” Anakin says, his voice just as soft. You slip your holdout pistol from your waistband and pass it to him. “Just in case,” you whisper. His eyes go to yours as he grabs the blaster, an amused grin spreading across his face. Then all hell breaks loose. 

A figure in blue armor slams hard into Anakin, sending both tumbling across the duracrete. Shock freezes you for a critical, fatal second. Rough hands grip your upper arms and a helmet slams against your head so hard you see stars. You twist fiercely, breaking their grip on one of your arms so you can slam your vambrace against their chest. They grunt and drop back a half step, letting you spin away from them. Using your momentum, you pull your attacker forward and drive the heel of your boot into their kneecap with a satisfying crunching sound. They drop your arm and scream as you bring your head up to survey the carnage around you. 

Anakin had somehow managed to hold on to the blaster though his roll, and he was firing from the floor, his back pressed up against one of the support columns. There was blood on his face and in his hair. He was doing a decent job of keeping his attackers pinned down, but his shots were flying wildly off their beskar. He clearly wasn’t used to handling a blaster in close quarters combat and the Mandalorians cornering him would figure that out soon enough.

You jerk as a stun bolt hisses past your head, sending you running for cover.  _ Osik.  _ There were two more Mandalorians heading for you, firing as they ran. But the ones shooting at you were only firing stun bolts. Dread filled your stomach. There was no way you could escape Pitr Vizsla this time. 

You drew your blaster from your thigh holster and fired around the pillar, frantically trying to plan. Anakin was no longer in your line of sight, but you could hear the familiar bark of your hold-out blaster from the corner of the room. You peeked out to fire again, but your attackers had disappeared. “ _ Haar’chak _ ” you cursed as you realized they were flanking you. Before you could turn around, the cold metal of a blaster barrel pressed itself against your jawline and your spine turned to ice. 

“Drop the blaster and call off your boyfriend,  _ cyar’ika _ .” Pitr Vizsla’s voice was cold and hard as the iron he wore. 

“Don’t call me that,  _ shabuir _ ,” you snarled, reluctantly dropping the blaster at your feet.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his tone turning your stomach. “Now call him off,” he jerked his head towards Anakin. But it wasn’t necessary. Anakin had managed to shoot one Death Watch commando, but the others had finally gotten under his guard and were holding him at blasterpoint. Anakin stood slowly, his palms pressed against the back of his head, the blood drying on his face a stark contrast against his pale skin. His eyes met yours, and you knew the fear in his gaze was reflected in yours. 

One of his men grabbed your arms, wrenching them behind your back so hard an involuntary whine escaped your lips. You cursed your show of weakness as Vizsla removed the blaster from your neck with a smirk. 

“You need to stop running from me,  _ cyare _ .” Pitr Vizsla’s voice was quiet and controlled, but carried an edge of menace that opened up a pit in your stomach. “Someone is going to get hurt because of you.”

“Looks like some of your men got hurt because you can’t accept no for an answer.” The taunt slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. Vizsla’s face darkened and you swallowed despite yourself. His armored gauntlet hit your face before you could brace for it, the force of it knocking you from the grasp of the blue-plated Mandalorian and to your knees. Blood dripped from your lips to the duracrete as you fought to keep from collapsing completely. _ Fierfek that hurt _ .

“Clan Vasur will never join the  _ Kyr’tsad, _ ” you hissed. Anger bubbled up through your fear. “Jomk Vasur may be my buir, but he will never submit himself to you. We follow the way of the True Mandalorians and they will not accept you as our  _ alor _ .”

“Soon enough,  _ mir’sheb _ , all Mandalorians will be Death Watch, or they will be dead.” Vizsla’s voice had never changed, still utterly controlled despite his outburst of violence, but expressions of rage played over his face. “Tiber, hold her.” 

The Mandalorian who had dropped you pulled you back up to standing, wrapping his arms around your chest to hold you against him. You grunted and leaned forward, struggling to put as much space between the two of you as you could. 

“Let her go,” Anakin snarled, and you jerked back to look at him. He was on his knees now, forced down by a massive heavy infantry Mandalorian, a blaster pressed to the back of his head. Dread filled you. 

Vizsla sneered at him. “You are of no consequence, boy. Kill him, and stun the girl.” Another Mandalorian in red armor pointed his blaster at you. There was no time to think about Anakin. You stopped struggling and fell back towards the man holding you. Tiber stumbled, the sudden lack of resistance throwing him off balance, and you let your legs crumple underneath you, twisting to land on your knees. The stun bolt meant for you flashed over your head and into Tiber. His body jerked and you spun on your knees, kicking his legs out from under him and grabbing his blaster as it fell from his nerveless hand.  _ One down.  _

You rolled, bringing your eyes up to look for Anakin while firing from a prone position. A lucky shot caught the red-armored Mandalorian under his chestplate, knocking him from his feet with a pained groan while his stun bolts whizzed over your head. You scrambled to your feet, hoping Anakin was still alive, when the unmistakable  _ snap-hiss  _ and  _ thrum  _ of a lightsaber freeze you in your tracks. 

The scene on the other side of the garage is like a tableau from the battle of Galidraan. The heavy infantry Mandalorian lay crumpled against a speeder twenty meters away from where he’d been standing, looking as though a massive hand had picked him up and thrown him against the wall. Vizsla and the two remaining Death Watch commandos were locked in battle with the Jedi. With Anakin. 

Anakin’s blue lightsaber was blur, moving faster than you could follow as he blocked blaster bolts and parried. A hideous screeching filled your ears as his lightsaber crashed against pure beskar armor. Anakin had surprise and unnatural speed on his side, but he was your age, and he was fighting battle hardened warriors. Slowly but surely, the Death Watch commandos were pushing him back. 

You screamed at yourself to bring up your blaster, to move, to flank them and support Anakin’s retreat. But you were frozen, rooted to the spot in shock.  _ Anakin was a Jetii _ .

***

Fear and anger mixed in Anakin’s gut as he watched Vizsla strike you. You didn’t deserve this. He screamed at them, not knowing what it was he was saying. All he could think was that he needed to save you, but the blaster pressed to the base of his skull made his stomach curdle in fear. Anakin wasn't sure he was fast enough to evade the deadly bolt. Then Vizsla ordered his death, and the choice was out of his hands.

Time slowed as Anakin gathered the Force. He could feel everything. He felt the grim amusement of his captor as he prepared to pull the trigger, felt your resolve overcoming your fear as you prepared to fight for your lives, felt Vizsla’s cruel aura sharpen with anticipation. Anakin pulled his hands away from his head and released a massive burst of energy. The Mandalorian who had forced him down was thrown away from him to collide sickeningly with the wall, sliding bonelessly down to the floor. The Force push towards the other two closest Mandalorians wasn’t as well aimed, but they both stumbled backwards, caught off guard.

Anakin called his lightsaber off his belt, its solid weight comforting as it slapped into his palm. It hissed to life and Anakin let himself revel in it for a split second. The familiar snap-hiss of ignition, the thrumming as he whipped it through the air to catch the first blaster bolts. It was exhilarating. Anakin never felt so alive as he did half a second from death. His lightsaber hummed through the familiar defensive patterns and he strode forward, looking to take the offensive. 

“Dasha, behind you!” he called, knowing through the Force that one of the injured Mandalorians had pulled a blaster and aimed it at your back. 

***

You unfroze with a start, whirling to fire two quick shots into the neck of the red-armored Mandalorian, and he went down again, this time for good. You forced yourself to move, shaking off your horror at freezing in the middle of a firefight, and flanked Vizsla, laying down a line of fire that would force him back, away from Anakin. He would fare far better with only two opponents.

Vizsla had replaced his helm, so you couldn’t see his expression, but you knew he was shaking with rage as he turned to face you. You brought your blaster up, squeezing off shot after shot as he ran towards you. The beskar absorbed all the blasts, but he jerked back when the majority of your shots hit the same spot on his chestplate. You knew from experience it would hurt.

At the last second you threw your blaster at his face and ducked under his swing, spinning to try to take him out at the knees. He anticipated your move, slamming his elbow into your back hard enough to drive all the air from your body. You wheezed as you fell, forcing yourself into a roll to keep him from pinning you. 

Vizsla slammed into you anyway, but you were ready. You slammed your vambrace against the spot on his chest plate that had gone red with stress under your blaster fire. He groaned, and you grabbed his cowl and pulled, kicking with your legs to toss him over your body. He landed badly, on his stomach, and you were already rolling, grabbing your blaster and firing frantically under his  _ kama _ . 

Blue stun bolts slammed into him and he collapsed gracelessly, his helm ringing from contact with the duracrete. Then there was silence, other than the humming of Anakin’s lightsaber. The last standing Mandalorian looked from you, to Vizsla, to Anakin, then backed away, his hands raised away from his body. He turned and ran once he reached the stairwell. Your eyes strayed towards Anakin’s other opponent, who had been neatly bisected and gutted, his wounds cauterized. Anakin’s lightsaber hissed as he shut it off, then he looked at you, breathing hard. 

You were on your feet in an instant, blaster shaking as you aimed it at him. The two of you stood like that as time stretched between you, suspended in your fear. Then Anakin slowly raised his hands away from his sides.

“Easy,” he murmured, “Easy, easy. I’m not your enemy.” The tone was one that you would use with a dangerous animal or a frightened child, but it worked. Your breathing evened out and you slowly lowered your blaster. 

“Easy,” you repeated, holstering your blaster. You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you looked at Vizsla instead, reaching for the familiar rage you felt in his presence. Your feet moved towards the fallen man almost of their own volition, then you bent and ripped off his helm. Vizsla’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing. The stun bolts had done their work. 

“Why didn’t you kill him,” Anakin asked, his voice carefully neutral. He was obviously trying not to spook you again. Your hands shook as you looked at Vizsla’s face. He had caused your  _ aliit  _ no end of trouble. You should have killed him. 

“If I killed him, it would bring the full wrath of House Vizsla down on our heads. My covert would be destroyed completely.” Your voice was surprisingly calm as you explained the predicament of Mandalorian politics Clan Vasur was embroiled in, but underneath you were boiling. Anakin nodded, sensing it was better not to speak. 

“I want to kill him,” you whispered, the confession dragged out of you by his silence. Then you were moving closer to Vizsla. Anakin didn’t stop you. Your booted foot met Vizsla’s face and you realized you were screaming.

“Don’t you ever,  _ kriffing _ , touch me again,  _ shabuir _ !” you screamed, each phrase punctuated by a solid hit from your boot to his skull. Blood spurted from his nose, but it wasn’t enough. “Don’t you ever, kriffing, threaten my family, or my friends, or my clan, ever again, you  _ shabla hut’uun _ .”

Blaster fire pulled you out of your rage. The Mandalorian that had run away was back, with at least ten other Death Watch commandos. Anakin was screaming in your ear. 

“Dasha we have to go! Now!” You both turned and ran for the speeder bike. halfway there you stopped.

“Fierfek, I dropped by blaster,” you yelled as you turned back. 

“Leave it!” Anakin screamed back, trying to be heard over the blaster bolts that were suddenly whizzing around you. 

“I can’t, it was my father’s!” you called over your shoulder. “Catch,” you threw the starter for your bike to Anakin, “Get her in the air and meet me halfway.” You were sprinting before you heard his answer.

“I’ve never  _ kriffing  _ flown a swoop!” he yelled, sounding frustrated. You stop in your tracks, a blaster bolt narrowing missing your side. 

“What the hell Anakin,” you yelled back, “you told me you raced!”

“I raced  _ kriffing  _ pods,” he screamed as he bent over the swoop, trying to start it, and your heart stopped.

“ _ Fierfek _ ,” you breathed, “you’re Anakin Skywalker! You won the  _ shabla  _ Boonta Eve Classic.” 

“Just get your  _ kriffing  _ blaster, we’ll talk about it later!” His voice jolted you into action. You closed the last few meters to where you’d dropped your biological father’s blaster, next to Vizsla’s body. Walon Vau’s Westar 34 fit into your palm as though it was made for you, and you brought it up, firing smoothly and accurately at the oncoming Mandalorians. They broke for cover, and Anakin took that opportunity to finally bring your speeder to life. He whipped it around, accelerating towards you. Vizsla groaned and you crouched over him, flipping your blaster settings to stun.

“ _Ne_ _shab’rud’ni_ ,” you hissed. His eyes blinked open blearily, and you waited until they widened in recognition before you stunned him again. Anakin pulled the speeder between you and the Death Watch a heartbeat later, and you slid in front of him, your ass brushing his crotch as you took the controls. His ragged inhalation made you grin. 

“You’ll get your turn in a bit, hold on tight, flyboy,” you teased, and Anakin laughed. He snatched your father’s blaster from your hands and fired towards the Mandalorians as you gunned the motors, his other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. Your mind nearly went blank at his touch, muscle memory saving you as the swoop shot out of the garage and into the Coruscanti night sky. 

Anakin whooped in exhilaration as you piloted the swoop up at a sharp angle, and you laughed with him, overwhelmed with  _ shereshoy  _ at your narrow escape. Gravity pressed your back against his chest and you could feel his laughter reverberating through you. Warmth spilled through you, pooling in your belly, and you were filled with an overwhelming urge to kiss him again. Instead, you gunned the engines. You needed to put more distance between your swoop and the  _ Kyr’tsad  _ before you gave in to Anakin’s teasing grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a translations:  
> shab- fuck  
> Osik-shit  
> Haar'chak- Dammit  
> Cyar'ika-sweetheart  
> Shabuir-motherfucker  
> Cyare-beloved  
> Kyr'tsad-Death Watch  
> Alor-leader  
> Mir'sheb-smartass  
> Jetii-Jedi  
> aliit-clan  
> hut'uun-coward  
> Ne shab’rud’ni- Don't fuck with me  
> shereshoy-joyful lust for life


End file.
